


The Little Seraph

by PuppiesRainbowsSadism



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fairy Tale Retellings, M/M, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 05:04:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9969491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuppiesRainbowsSadism/pseuds/PuppiesRainbowsSadism
Summary: Castiel has never known anything other than Heaven. When he finally visits the world below the clouds and discovers the brightest soul he's ever seen, he decides he wants to know more about humanity.Based mostly on Hans Christian Andersen's original story, "The Little Mermaid," with a few elements pulled from the Disney version.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for the Sastiel Storybook Project back in 2014 or 15, but that project must have fallen apart for some reason, because this story never made it past the first draft turn in.
> 
> This has been sitting in my Google Docs ever since, hoping the project would be revived. But it hasn't, and this story has a special place in my heart, so here it is.

Up in the air, where the sky is as blue as cornflowers and the sun always shines, so high up that no mountain will ever reach and no man will ever climb, live God and his Heavenly Host. There is more than just puffy white clouds in Heaven; in fact, Heaven is made up of an unfathomable number of smaller heavens, one for each human soul that has ever died and will ever live. Some heavens are as yet unoccupied. Some house more than one soul.

It was the Seventh Day, and God had not been seen by any of his creations for ages (Days, of course, are different than days), so his four most powerful, soon to be three with the Fall of Lucifer, watched over Heaven and cared for their younger brethren. There were many younger, less powerful angels, almost too many to count, but one of the youngest, one of the last angels created, Castiel, was a favourite. However, this was not necessarily a blessing. While Gabriel was nothing but brotherly, Michael and Raphael were strict in their attempts to replace their Father and frequently admonished Castiel for his curiosity and passion. So it was that Gabriel quite literally took Castiel under his wing and taught him everything he needed to know, and shielded him from the other archangels when needed.

Castiel had places of refuge for when he was being put down by his brothers and simply could not take any more. The lush, green heavens were his favourite, peaceful and serene and quiet, thrumming with energy in a way that was very human. He would fly here on his tawny wings and just sit in silence. He knew his brothers would be able to find him without any difficulty, but Castiel liked to pretend he was safe here, and that no one would find him.

When Lucifer Fell, Michael and Raphael no longer had time to spare on the curious, passionate angel, and he was placed fully in the care of Gabriel, who wanted as little to do with Heavenly affairs as possible and was more than willing to answer Castiel’s questions. It was through Gabriel that Castiel learned that, when angels reach a certain age, they are allowed to travel through the clouds and experience the world below.

“What is in the world below the clouds?” Castiel asked. “Why would I want to go there?”

Gabriel smiled down at his brother and told Castiel of the time he first flew down -- of ships on the sea and towns on the land, of animals of all sorts, of sweet-smelling flowers and drooping green trees and, most importantly of all,  _ people _ . To Castiel, who had never experienced anything but the puffy white clouds and multiple heavens of his home, it seemed very similar to the human heavens he travelled every day. But Gabriel spoke as if the world were magic, and Castiel found he was fixated on idea of people. He had watched their souls in their heavens, but had never revealed himself to them. Were living people with flesh and bone bodies different?

“When you’re old enough, you can see for yourself,” Gabriel told him, and he would say nothing else on it.

Castiel asked every angel who had been beneath the clouds what it was like, and each one had a different story to tell.

Hannah talked about how everything on land was music -- carriages rumbling down rough roads, the trill of hundreds of human voices, waves crashing on the cliffs, church bells ringing high in their steeples.

Hael talked about how she flew with the birds and ran with the deer and swam with the fish, and then basked in the warm sun until her feathers were dry and she could fly again.

But Castiel loved listening to Joshua most of all. Joshua was old for a seraph, one of the oldest, and he knew every soul in Heaven, every soul on Earth, and even heard the voice of their Father on occasion. Joshua loved the humans just as much as Castiel was fascinated by them, and he was happy to tell the young angel stories of their inventions -- of travel, of medicine, of frivolity -- of their capacity for love and compassion, of hate and evil, and of their sin. But when Joshua spoke of the humans’ sin, he didn’t spit in hatred as Lucifer had done. He spoke of them kindly and said that, if humans did not sin and did not have free will, then they would be too perfect. Everything is flawed, and it’s the humans’ flaws that make them only more beautiful.

Castiel did not quite understand, but he hoped he would when he could finally fly down below the clouds.

The day could not come soon enough, but when it did, Gabriel warned Castiel sternly, “Before you go, we must hide your wings, and smother your halo, and bind your voice. The humans must not know that you are an angel, so you cannot use your Grace or your true voice around them. It could very well kill a human.”

Castiel nodded seriously, to show he understood, even though he didn’t like the way his wings felt hidden as they were. Then Gabriel winked and, with a pat on his shoulder, sent Castiel on his way.

Castiel let himself fall through the clouds gracefully, feeling every droplet of water on each feather. He fell for a long time before making it through, for some were heavy with rain and had sunk in the sky. He almost didn’t realise when he was free of the clouds because the air was thick with moisture and warmth. Castiel was directly above the ocean, but the electricity in the air promised a storm.

The young angel paid no mind to it and flew towards the coast he could see just on the horizon. He wanted to see the people.

He passed what he assumed were ships that breathed black smoke and sang with low, rumbling voices across the water that Castiel longed to echo, but Gabriel’s warning reminded him to reign in his true voice.

He observed fish that jumped from the water, and not-fish that broke the surface and laughed at each other.

It was all very beautiful, mystical as his brothers and sisters had promised, but it wasn’t what he was looking for.

The first humans Castiel saw were just off the coast, in the mountains, surrounded by wilderness and scaling ever upwards. Castiel perched in a high tree and watched them climb.

There were three of them -- two men, one woman -- and they laughed and conversed and had a merry time climbing the mountain. It was not a difficult task, but still a dangerous one, especially with the impending storm. A fat raindrop hit Castiel’s cheek as he watched and smiled at the young humans. They had so much more life, were much more animated, than the souls Castiel was used to seeing.

He risked flying a little closer, knowing any noise he made would be covered by the distant thunder and the wildlife scurrying into hiding all around.

“C’mon, guys, there’s a storm coming!” the young woman called, but she was still smiling and clearly not very concerned. “Move it!” Castiel was surprised to find he understood her, even though she did not speak the language of the angels.

The young woman made it to safety first, and since Castiel was looking, he could see a small wooden shelter not far from the edge where she hoisted herself up and offered a hand to the light-haired young man below her.

The last one of the group, who was obviously strong and graceful but was climbing cautiously, was still several lengths away from the top. His friends called to him, and he smiled, even as the rain fell harder.

Castiel felt horror in the pit of his stomach he could not explain, as he knew the man was going to fall before the man did. The human reached up and grabbed a hold that was slick with rain and lost his grip with a shout, and he fell terrifyingly fast. Castiel knew without a doubt that he would die when he hit the ground.

Without a beat of hesitation, Castiel stretched his wings and dove for the young man, catching him effortlessly and landing directly below where he would have fallen, among an outcropping of rock. Castiel briefly considered letting the young man down somewhere softer, but the human’s friends could not know he had intervened. Castiel could allow for no suspicion.

He glanced at the young man in his arms and was nearly blinded by the bright, pure soul he saw shining from within him. Castiel had never seen such a soul in all his years and yearned to touch it, to feel its warmth. He only stayed his hand when he saw the young man staring up in fear and awe. At the same time, Castiel heard the others calling out, “Sam! Sam!” Quickly, he tapped the young man on the forehead, putting him into a light sleep, and laid him as gently as possible among the rocks.

Then Castiel fled, just far enough to watch the other humans come down a much safer path to find Sam unharmed, to their astonishment. Only when he was safely in the cabin did Castiel continue his exploration of the Earth.

 

* * *

 

Castiel could not stop thinking about the young human boy -- Sam. Even as he spent his first day beneath the clouds among people from all corners of the world, he never found anyone with a soul as bright and beautiful as Sam’s.

Immediately upon his return to Heaven, Castiel told Joshua about everything. He spoke in great detail about every experience, but mostly, he talked about Sam -- his astonishing soul and strong vessel.

“Humans do not have vessels like we do,” Joshua corrected patiently.

“But they have outer flesh and an inner soul, a little like we do.”

“Angels, before anything, are Grace,” Joshua explained. “We are Grace and thought and light. The outer flesh we wear is not our own; it is borrowed.”

“Humans are souls,” Castiel argued.

“Humans are humans without souls.They own both the flesh and the soul, and when the flesh can no longer contain them, they are still human when their soul leaves them.”

Castiel thought in silence for a moment. So human vessels wore out, unlike angel vessels. “Can a human come to Heaven?”

Joshua nodded. “Of course. When they die.”

“But before then? With their flesh?”

“No. Humans cannot walk among the clouds as we do. We have tried before, but the air is too thin. The humans die before they even reach the Gates.”

Castiel frowned. “If human bodies can’t survive in Heaven, is it possible for angel vessels to survive on Earth? For a long time?”

“Why do you ask these questions?” Joshua asked, not irritated but amused. “Angels belong in Heaven. Humans belong below. Even guardians watch from afar, and you, my little seraph, are not a guardian.”

Castiel nodded, as if he understood and agreed, but really, he was thinking about how unfair it all was. He wanted to be on Earth. He wanted to be with Sam -- to exist among the purest soul his Father had surely ever created. How did Sam live? What was his life like? How did  _ any _ human live, for that matter, and how did Sam’s bright soul shine through?

Castiel wanted to be human, and the thought frightened him as soon as it was conceived. He wanted to be human, to know what it was like, but was he willing to Fall? To cut off all ties with Heaven and his brethren for that chance?

At first, the answer was a hard  _ no _ . But the more he thought about it, the more he wondered if he would. If he would be willing to Fall for the chance to be human and to observe Sam. But he could not allow thoughts of such doubt, and in any case, he knew another way, a way that was by no means safer, but that might guarantee his angelhood if humanity did not suit him. If there was any way for Castiel to live among the humans without giving up his Grace, the only one who could possibly know it was the angel who Fell the hardest.

Castiel swallowed against a wave of fear. He’d have to visit his brother in Hell.

He had never been to Hell before. He never had any reason to. That was where human souls became demons, and rebellious angels became prisoners.

Nevertheless, when Castiel stepped into Hell, he kept his head held high and moved with as much surety as possible under the circumstances. He tried to remind himself that he was the most powerful creature here who was not a prisoner. He could easily smite any demon who sought to harm him.

Hands reached for him through the bars of cells, tortured souls cried out for help as they were strung up by their very bones, but Castiel grit his teeth and pushed through, avoiding the hands and blocking out the screams. He didn’t know where he was going, but he knew Lucifer had the coldest heart of any creature. So the colder his surroundings got, the more sure Castiel was that he was going in the right direction.

Soon, the screams were so distant they sounded almost like music, and the cells containing prisoners got more and more secure until there were no bars to reach through. Although it did not bother him, Castiel was sure a human would be suffering from the chill.

“Where you going, angel?” a sultry voice called from the shadows as Castiel passed. The interaction surprised him, but he didn’t let it show, instead stilling and refusing to face the owner of the voice.

The click of heels announced the demon’s approach before enough light was shed that Castiel could see her. “Here to see the Morningstar?” she continued, even though Castiel offered no response. “I’m afraid you’ve missed visiting hours. Family only.”

Castiel withheld the response that he  _ was _ Lucifer’s family, because he knew that was no longer true. Lucifer was disowned when he rebelled, and no relation of Grace could change that.

“Let me see him,” Castiel demanded, instilling unwavering command into his voice. He was a soldier, after all, but the demon radiated power of her own. Her smirk was predatory.

“What would a good little angel like yourself want with the one you cast out? Come to rub salt in the wounds?”

“No, I . . . I wish to speak with him.”

The demon’s face lit up. It only made Castiel fear her. He was infinitely more powerful than her, but he was not in his element. He was unsure, on unsteady footing and in unfamiliar territory. “To make a deal?”

“Possibly.”

“Well, well, well,” the demon crooned, stepping forward until they were almost chest to chest. “Let’s see what we can do for the good little seraph. Follow me.”

The demon led Castiel farther and farther into Hell, until he could see her breath puffing out in front of her. Cells became more sparse, screams too distant to hear, and the Cage, as Castiel saw it, was giant, looming, covered in frost. Through the tarnished bars that appeared much too thin and widely spaced to contain even a flightless bird, he could see his brother sat leaning against one side. His head rolled to stare at them, and Castiel felt his confidence waver.

“It looks different for everyone,” the demon explained. “It breathes for me. It burns for him. What is it for you?”

Before Castiel could even think of an answer, his words were scared away by a single, echoing, hauntingly familiar voice calling, “Ruby, what is this? I assume this is something you can’t handle by yourself.”

“Lucifer,” the demon -- Ruby -- breathed reverently, as if it were a gift to say the name. “This little seraph thinks he might want to make a deal.”

There was a pause, and then a very interested “Really?” that was drawn out several syllables. Lucifer climbed to his feet slowly, like a predator stretching in preparation of the kill. Castiel shivered, and Ruby shoved him forward.

“Do you recognise him?” she asked.

“Castiel,” Lucifer named him immediately, and Castiel set his jaw and stood his ground against his fear. “There alway was a chink in your armour. Something gone wrong with your wiring. I thought for sure you would’ve fought with me.”

“I serve Heaven,” Castiel spat, “and all of God’s commands.”

“And yet, here you are,” Lucifer grinned. He reached a hand out through the Cage, and Castiel took a step back. He didn’t know Lucifer had any reach from where he was imprisoned. “You’re a long way from home, Castiel. What could you possibly want so badly that you’re willing to deal with me?”

Castiel swallowed past his fear and, for the first time, met Lucifer’s eyes. They were amused, smiling at him. Castiel struggled to be stoic. “I wish to live as a human,” he confessed. “To know what it’s like. But I do not want to Fall.”

“You want to live on Earth, but keep your angelhood,” Lucifer spat, amusement morphing into something darker. “You’ve fallen in love with humanity, just like our Father, just like my brothers. But fine. If you want humanity that much, I’ll make you a deal. A bet, really.”

“I’m listening,” Castiel said, although his vessel’s heart was pounding.

“First, tell me:  Is it all of humanity you’ve fallen for? Or just one?”

Castiel wasn’t prepared for the question. Truthfully, he thought it was the concept of humanity he was intrigued by, but when he thought about his day beneath the clouds, the answer became clear. “One soul.”

“Tell me.”

Castiel hesitated, but decided he had little to lose. “His name is Sam. He is young and lives by the ocean, and he has the most beautiful soul I’ve ever seen.”

Lucifer pretended to gag. “Okay, here’s the deal, Castiel. Or, rather, a game.”

Castiel’s eyes narrowed. “A game?”

“Yes. I’ll hold onto your angelhood for you, and you can live on Earth freely, as a human.”

“That’s not -- “

“Ah, ah! I’m not done. You make this Sam fall in love with you, you’re an angel again and can travel Heaven and Earth freely. But,” here Lucifer paused for dramatic effect, “if he falls in love with someone else, or dies first, you lose. You still get your angelhood back, but you’ll be stuck here. In the Cage, with me, forever.”

“My angelhood is merely collateral. What’s your price?”

“Oh, the collateral is enough. Trust me.” At Castiel’s suspicious silence, Lucifer grinned. “What’s wrong, brother? Don’t think you can do it? Angels are very persuasive. If we can get just about anyone to be our vessel, what makes you think it’ll be any harder to make them love you?”

“What do you get out of this deal?”

Lucifer’s smirk showed too many teeth to be truly innocent. “Company. It gets boring in here.”

Castiel considered the deal in silence, analysing Lucifer’s words for signs of trickery. Certainly, the odds were against him in this. He knew little of human love, but he couldn’t help but agree with his Fallen brother. Angels were persuasive by nature. How much more difficult could this be?”

“What’s the matter, angel?” Ruby taunted. “Scared? Don’t love your Sam enough?”

Truth be told, Castiel wasn’t sure he was in love with Sam at all. But he could not pass up a chance to live as a human and be with such a beautiful soul -- to get to know Sam and have the chance to fall in love was all Castiel wanted. So he accepted the deal.

Ruby seized his wings, and Castiel screamed as she severed them with a knife, leaving nothing but bleeding bone and sinew where his shoulder blades protruded. Ruby laughed as Castiel tumbled, disoriented, and she tossed his dismembered wings to the side and shoved him to Lucifer, who reached into Castiel’s very core and  _ pulled _ ,

And then Castiel remembered nothing else.

 

* * *

 

Angels do not sleep. They do not require rest of any kind unless their vessels are injured. So it would be an understatement to say that Castiel was disoriented when he awoke.

He was in a tremendous amount of pain, and that was when he realised he was lying on his back. Castiel rolled to his side, and that was no better, because it jostled his shoulder and the wound where his wing should be. He could not help the tears of pain that streaked his face, but he did spare a moment to wonder at them. Angels do not cry.

The ground where he lay was soft and cool, and he lay there, willing the pain in his back and the aching in every cell in his body to subside. It did not, but Castiel closed his eyes against the pain and took comfort in the dewy grass, even as the sun warmed his other side. He could not decide which sensation was more relieving, if either of them were at all.

“Oh my God!” he heard, and Castiel jolted at hearing his Father’s name in vain. Only human for a few minutes, and he’d already experienced pain, temperature, and sin. What had he truly signed himself up for?

Hands gripped his shoulders and rolled him onto his back, and Castiel cried out wordlessly. It was difficult to make out the person worrying over him, with the sun at the person’s back, but once Castiel’s eyes adjusted, he recognised the face. It was Sam. His Sam, with the beautiful soul that Castiel could no longer see. He was wet and red-faced, as if he had been exerting himself, but he was looking over Castiel’s vessel with an expression he recognised as extreme concern.

“Are you okay? What happened? Do you need a doctor?”

Castiel opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out. He tried again and managed a huff of breath and a choked off noise, but no words in any language.

Something seized his chest, an emotion that Castiel had never felt before and had no name for but shook him to his very core.

_ Angels are very persuasive _ .

Had Lucifer taken his voices as well?

“Hey, hey, calm down,” Sam urged gently. He smoothed his hands down Castiel’s back, but froze when he whimpered in pain.

“That hurts?”

Castiel nodded, as he had observed humans do to indicate  _ yes _ .

“Can you speak?”

He shook his head.

“Okay. Okay, that’s alright. We’ll get you to a doctor. Come on.”

Sam was cautious of where he put his hands, but with some effort, they got Castiel standing on wobbly legs that had never had to support the full weight of his vessel before. Sam wrapped one arm around his waist gently, and together, they hobbled along.

They walked along a dirt path together slowly, until they reached the end where the path opened up to reveal a parking lot. Castiel was surprised to find that he recoginsed it for what it was, having never heard nor read it before.

Sam led him to a metal carriage ( _ a car _ ) and urged him inside. Castiel leaned forward in his seat, and Sam let him take off the seat belt after realising that it tugged on his shoulder.

As Sam drove, he asked Castiel questions and urged him to answer with a series of taps to his arm -- one for  _ yes _ , two for  _ no _ , three for  _ I don’t know. _ Castiel answered with extreme reservation. As Gabriel said, the humans could not know what he was.

“Do you remember what happened to you? Did someone hurt you?” Sam asked. Castiel answered with two taps.

“Really? You don’t remember anything?”

It was a lie, technically, but he couldn’t tell Sam the truth. He tapped Sam’s shoulder twice.

“Okay. Let’s try to figure this out. Do you live around here?” Two taps.

“Do you have family near here?”

“Do you know this area at all?”

“Do you remember  _ anything _ ?”

Castiel answered each question  _ no _ . There was nothing he could tell Sam about the situation, and no convincing lie he could imagine.

Sam stopped asking questions. When they got to the hospital, it was clear to Castiel that Sam was more confused about his situation than he was at the beginning of the drive.

“I’m Sam, by the way. I don’t think I said that before,” he introduced himself as they climbed out of the car. Castiel wanted to say  _ I know. I know who you are. I’m risking everything for you _ . But instead, he nodded.

“Uh, sorry if this is rude, since you don’t seem to remember much, but do you remember your name? Or at least something I can call you?”

Castiel nodded again. Sam waited.

“Oh! Oh, I’m so sorry, I forgot. Um.” He leaned back into the car and dug through the centre console, shoving a wrinkled piece of paper and a pen at Castiel when he stood back up.

Castiel wondered if he knew how to write the human way. Curiously, he put the pen to paper and moved his hand in a way that was shaky but felt natural. “CAS,” he wrote, and hesitated there before passing the paper back to Sam.

“Cas,” Sam read, and Castiel almost forgot his pain, hearing his name spoken aloud. “To be perfectly honest, Cas, I don’t know what I can do for you. Since you don’t remember anything, the doctors here can only help so much. But we’ll try, okay? We’ll do what we can.”

Castiel was struck with two realisations at that moment. The first was that Sam’s compassion and empathy were impressive and unexpected. Castiel had learned that humans were sinful and selfish and dumb, yet here Sam was going out of his way to help a complete stranger. Did that mean that angels were wrong about all humans, or was this Sam’s beautiful soul shining through?

The second was that it was not by coincidence that Castiel woke up beside the path that Sam was running. Castiel never thought he’d even think such a thing, especially with the painful memory of their deal still along his back, but he was grateful to Lucifer for giving him this little advantage, at least. If Lucifer had dumped Castiel anywhere else, there was a high chance that Castiel would die human before he even found Sam.

He followed Sam into the hospital with a lighter heart than before, and they used the same tapping system there, when they could.

The nurses made Castiel remove his clothes in order to inspect him directly, and Castiel heard Sam gasp.

“Holy shit,” he breathed, and Castiel frowned. “Cas . . . there’s no way you don’t remember those.”

A nurse brushed her fingers lightly along his back, and he jolted at the shock of fresh pain. She immediately withdrew her hand and typed something into the computer.

His confusion must have been obvious, because Sam whispered to him, as if in secret, “You have two  _ massive  _ scars there, Cas. I don’t know how . . . they look  _ deep _ .”

The nurses and doctors ran a series of tests -- touching the scars with heat and cold and soft and hard objects, all up and down them, asking where it hurt and how much and when does it go away. They took x rays scans and blood samples and asked questions about his medical history that he mostly didn’t know how to answer.

In the end, they concluded exactly what he expected them to:  Despite Castiel’s intense pain, muteness, and assumed amnesia they could find nothing wrong with him. Still, Castiel was told to take some painkillers and to stick to a routine and stay in familiar environments until his memories came back. He was also encouraged to speak to authorities, but Castiel already knew he wouldn’t, and he hoped Sam wouldn’t urge him to.

Castiel did not understand everything he was told. He did not know what  _ painkillers  _ were or how he was supposed to stay somewhere familiar when everywhere was foreign to him. They also did not give him back his clothes, so Castiel was dressed in light blue scrubs that were thin and did nothing to protect him from the cold.

Cold. That was another thing. Castiel had never experienced temperature before, but now his body was shivering, his teeth chattering. When they settled in the car again, Sam turned some dials, and heat radiated from the vents, gradually warming Castiel’s frozen skin. He pressed his hands to the vent and found that helped, but quickly learned that holding them there too long burned.

“Do you have anywhere to go?” Sam asked. He didn’t sound irritated or burdened, but concerned and a little sad. The sadness only increased when Castiel answered with two taps.

“How about a last name? Maybe we can find someone you know.”

Castiel’s brows furrowed in confusion. Humans had more than one name? He never learned that, and answered with three taps.

Sam sighed, and shifted the car into gear, and he told Castiel that he was alone in his apartment for winter break, and Castiel was more than welcome to stay with him until he could remember who he was or what had happened to him.

“I mean, for all I know you’re a mass murderer, but at least it’s just me at home,” he said under his breath, more to himself than to Castiel. Castiel tapped twice, even though it wasn’t a question, and Sam’s resulting smile warmed something in Castiel that the heaters in the car could not touch.

 

* * *

 

The first thing Sam did after settling Castiel in one of the empty rooms in his apartment and finding him some clothes was to give him a white board and a marker, so he could write out what he had to say. It was tedious and slow, and Castiel cursed Lucifer for taking his voices, but Sam was patient and did not seem to mind.

“I know someone who’s selectively mute,” he explained when Castiel praised his patience. “Or, he used to be. He’s a lot better now. So I’ve had some practise with this kind of thing.”

Sam kept mentioning the possibilities of Castiel’s past. He could have been a serial killer, or a sociopath, or an escaped convict, or a witness to a murder. Castiel neither confirmed nor denied any of these claims, but he found it amusing that Sam kept accusing him of these things when it was so obvious that Sam trusted Castiel. At least, enough to let him into his home.

Which was odd, in Castiel’s eyes, because as far as he knew, he had done nothing to earn that trust.

When Castiel inquired about the level of trust that Sam was placing in Castiel -- letting a complete stranger into his home, feeding him, giving him complete and total free range as long as he put everything back where he found it -- Sam got an odd look on his face. Odd, but not unpleasant. It was almost reminiscent, almost dreamy.

“Yeah, Brady tells me I’m too trusting,” he started, but it didn’t sound like he was done speaking, so Castiel waited.

“This is going to sound really stupid,” Sam continued. “Thanksgiving break my roommates and I were staying at a cabin in the mountains. Well, except for Rebecca, but she went home. Anyway, the day before Thanksgiving, we were mountain climbing. It was a really easy path up, only maybe thirty feet up, but it was raining, and I slipped and fell.” Sam swallowed, obviously remembering the fall with fear. Castiel unconsciously reached out and covered Sam’s hand with his own. It seemed to comfort Sam, and he took a breath to continue. “I should have died, Cas. There was nothing but rock beneath me. But I swear -- and I  _ know _ this is crazy, okay, I know that -- but I swear an angel saved me that night. That’s the only way I can explain it. I remember falling, and being caught, and looking up and -- and . . . Well, if the angel was real, he looked a hell of a lot like you, Cas.” Sam sighed. “And the next thing I remember after that is waking up on the rocks completely fine. Not even a scratch. It’s impossible. I should have  _ died _ , but . . . ”

The way Sam looked at Castiel made Castiel’s heart stop for a moment, an experience he had never felt before. He wondered what it meant and if it was something good, but mostly he wondered if Sam felt it too.

“I know I was imagining things,” Sam says finally. “Like Deja vu, you know? When you dream something and it happens the next day or in a week. But, like, you only  _ think _ you dreamed it before. That’s all it was.”

Castiel wanted to scream.  _ I saved your life! It was me on the mountain! I am the angel that saved you! _ But Castiel hadn’t earned his voice back just because Sam was intrigued by him.

They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, Sam gnawing on his thumbnail and staring off at something, before Castiel picked up his marker and started writing. Sam waited patiently for Castiel to stop, but even after he had written what he wanted to say, Castiel needed a moment to gather the courage to show Sam.

 

_ What if it wasn’t just deja vu? _

_ What if it was a sign? _

 

“A sign of what?” Sam laughed softly. “That you’re my guardian angel or something?”

Castiel smiled as well, although his smile was tighter, more nervous. He erased the words and scribbled quickly, erased it, tried again:

 

_ Maybe _

 

Sam laughed brighter. Castiel’s nerves dissolved. He erased the word with his sleeve and picked the marker back up, but Sam’s hand on his stopped him. Castiel felt his ears burn.

That was odd. It was not hot in the apartment.

“You wanna do something tonight?” Sam suggested. “We could just walk around downtown, explore a little. Get you your own clothes. Hey, maybe something will even jog your memory.”

Castiel smiled, an expression he didn’t wear too often, apparently, because he noticed how it pulled at his cheeks. He tapped Sam’s hand once, because it was easier than just writing  _ Yes, I’d love to do that _ .

They left just as the sun was going down, because Sam claimed that was the best time to explore downtown on a weekend if you wanted to catch something to eat first. Castiel was overwhelmed with his new human senses. The tastes and smells of new foods and the sounds of conversations and booming nightclubs. There was no fabric that Castiel tried on that didn’t send shocks of pain down his back, no matter how soft or smooth or light. A while after the sun went down, the sidewalk got crowded, and Sam grabbed Castiel’s hand so they wouldn’t be parted. Castiel squeezed Sam’s hand gently, just happy with the contact, and he was pretty sure he wasn’t imagining the small smile on Sam’s face.

They had explored half the square before they heard a rumble in the distance. For a moment, Castiel thought it was the bass from another nightclub, until he saw lightning strike and heard thunder crack much closer.

Castiel subconsciously clinged to Sam in fear. There was a storm, and it was close.

“Cas?” Sam asked, but his voice was drowned out by another shot of lightning and the accompanying thunder. Cas let out a quite undignified whimper, and held on tighter, body tense and poised to flee.

“Cas, are you scared of storms?”

That would be an understatement. Thunder and lightning didn’t always indicate an angry angel, but it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. The one usually preceded the other, and Castiel did not want to stick around to find out which of his siblings were angry with him.

“You know, my brother used to say that thunder was just the angels playing bowling, and lightning struck when one of them got a strike.

Castiel huffed -- what might have been a laugh, if what Sam said made any sense to him -- and forced a smile. Until the storm rolled closer, then he ran, only partially conscious of how he was still clinging to Sam. He just had to hide. It didn’t matter where. He couldn’t let his brethren find him.

“Cas, wait!” Sam shouted, and Castiel would have paid no attention if Sam hadn’t dug his heels into the sidewalk to stop him.

Castiel knew he looked crazy, panicked -- wide-eyed and short of breath -- but Sam held him by the shoulders and held him steady. Castiel grimaced at the pain, but it broke through his fear and helped him focus on Sam’s words.

“We’ll get out of here, okay?” Sam promised. “The apartment isn’t that far.”

Sam started to turn to walk down the street, but Castiel stopped him one more time. They didn’t bring his white board, so Castiel tried to gesture. When Sam didn’t catch on, Castiel moved them manually:  One arm around Sam’s waist and one of Sam’s around Castiel’s shoulders, and Sam finally got it, holding Castiel gingerly and letting him bury his face in his shoulder when thunder hit, all the way to the apartment. Even then, it wasn’t until the door was closed and locked behind them that Castiel let go of Sam.

“Okay,” Sam said, more to himself than to Castiel, “So you’re scared of thunderstorms. I mean, that’s something. At least you’re remembering that. Maybe this can be a good thing.”

Castiel looked at Sam incredulously, but his expression withered when the windows lit up with lightning and the foundation shook with thunder. He very nearly just collapsed where he stood, but Sam caught him and led him to Sam’s own room. It was in the middle of the house, sharing a wall with the next apartment over and as away from the outside storm as they could get. Castiel had never been in here before.

Castiel had risked everything for Sam. He risked his very angelhood. If one of his brethren found him now, Graceless and wingless, he had no hope of earning his angelhood back or of seeing Sam again or of ever returning to Heaven. If one of Castiel’s brothers or sisters descended upon him now, it was all over.

That might have been preferable to spending eternity with Lucifer, but he couldn’t afford to lose everything now.

“You’re shaking,” Sam observed. “Come here.” He slipped off his own shoes and helped Castiel kick off his and pulled Castiel into bed with him.

“Hold me as tight as you need, okay?” Sam instructed. “I don’t know why you’re scared, if it’s like a trauma thing or what, but I’m right here, okay? I’m here, and you’re safe.”

Castiel wanted to believe him. He wrapped his arms around Sam’s waist and hid his face in his chest, ashamed and fearful. The intimacy of the position did not escape Castiel’s notice, and he let himself be wrapped in Sam’s arms and his presence and just feel his soul and enjoy it, in case Heaven was coming for him and he never got the chance again.

When morning came, it was still cloudy and raining sparsely, but mostly Castiel noticed how he and Sam were wrapped together in bed. Was this love? Did this count? Because he could feel his heart pounding, his face heating up, the desire to just lay there forever overwhelming. It felt like it might be love to Castiel.

Until Sam woke up, and although he didn’t seem perturbed by their position -- on the contrary, he held Castiel a little tighter -- he muttered, with amusement in his voice, “My guardian angel, scared of storms.” And Castiel’s heart sank.

Somehow, despite the comment they only continued to grow closer. The series of storms that rolled through ensured that Castiel spent nearly every night in Sam’s bed. Sam taught Castiel about snow -- snowballs and snow angels and snow ice cream -- despite the lack of actual snow outside. Castiel answered questions Sam had about Christmas, relieved to find that Sam was a man of faith as he hung on to every word. They attempted to bake Christmas cookies together and ended up only succeeding in setting off the fire alarm, at which point Sam sheepishly admitted that his family never really did any of this stuff.

Castiel had been created to love humanity. He grew from a fledgling to a fully grown seraph learning that all humans were to be loved. He took his lessons seriously, and indeed did love humanity.

But what he felt with Sam? It was so much stronger, so much more intense. Castiel was created to love humanity, but he was not created to know love for a single human. And yet, he did. He knew without a doubt now that he loved Sam in some way or another. It only saddened him that Sam did not love him too, as indicated by the pain that still radiated from his back and the ache in his chest that told him his Grace was missing.

But Castiel was determined. The time Castiel had with Sam was precious, because even though Lucifer had not mentioned a time limit, the abundance of love songs on every radio station put fear in Castiel’s heart. If the humans had imbued the Christmas season with love, there was no better time to succeed. And what happened if Christmas came and went and Sam still did not love him? What happened when the break was over, and Sam went back to school, and his roommates came back? What happened when Sam decided he was too much of a burden?

Sam left often and stayed out for several hours. He worked for his living, but sometimes Sam came home with his pupils blown wide, gnawing at his lip, restless even as he immediately retired to bed. These times became more and more frequent, until Castiel noticed that, when Sam said, “I’m going to get coffee. Want anything?” it meant he would return dizzy and with a goofy smile on his face. It looked like infatuation, and Castiel didn’t like it one bit.

Because Sam had never looked at Castiel like that, and it put a pit of fear in Castiel’s stomach.

 

* * *

 

One night, Castiel awoke to his brother Gabriel standing by his bed. It was either late at night or early in the morning, Sam fast asleep, when Gabriel knelt by Castiel’s bed, Castiel sitting up so they were eye-to-eye.

_ What are you doing here? _ Castiel thought in fright, knowing Gabriel would hear him.  _ How did you find me? What --  _

“Be quiet,” Gabriel demanded, harsher than he had ever heard him. “Let me talk. I’ve been keeping an eye on you and Sam, okay? Yeah, I know you made the deal, and I think you’re an idiot for it, but . . . “ Gabriel sighed and presented Castiel with a silver blade. His Angel Blade. “Listen, Cas, you’re losing him,” he explained. “He’s seeing someone, and I really hope it doesn’t come down to it, but if Sam really does fall in love with someone else . . . I made a deal too. If that happens, kill him with this Blade and wash your hands in his blood, and you’ll have your angelhood restored and won’t have to be trapped in the box forever.

Castiel was appalled, for many reasons, but he took the blade gingerly and hid it under his pillow, because it was a precious gift from his brother.

_ What did you have to give up for this deal? _ Castiel asked.

Gabriel shrugged and attempted to smile, but even human, Castiel could tell that Gabriel was putting on a face of nonchalance for him. “Nothing much. Luci just clipped a few feathers. That’s all.”

Castiel’s eyes widened.  _ You cannot fly? Gabriel, you shouldn’t have --  _

But Gabriel rolled his eyes. “He didn’t clip  _ all _ my feathers. Just, you know, the ones on the third set of wings. So I’m a little slower, a little unstable, big deal. I’d rather not fly at all than have to see you lose this deal.”

Gabriel glanced at the door, evidently hearing or seeing something Castiel could not. “I have to go,” he said suddenly. “Your human’s waking up. Like I said, I hope he comes to love you, but if he doesn’t . . . Do what you gotta do.” With a melancholy shrug and an apologetic expression, he was gone.

Castiel held onto the Angel Blade, hiding it in his winter boots during the day and his pillow at night, even though he had no intentions of using it. If Sam fell in love with someone else, Castiel refused to take that away from him. Castiel would sooner take his own life. Castiel had held onto hope for himself before Gabriel’s visit. Now, losing the bet he made with Lucifer -- or killing himself first -- seemed like a much more likely possibility than before.

Castiel didn’t have to wonder about his fate for long. When Sam was gone for much longer than he said he’d be, Castiel grew concerned. He didn’t like going out on his own, but he slipped on the thickest coat he could find and went to look for Sam. It was Christmas Eve. Sam shouldn’t have even been out of the house.

Castiel wasn’t halfway down the stairs when he saw them:  Sam and a woman standing close together, leaning against the wall of the apartment building. The dark made it difficult to see, but Castiel could see that the two were kissing. More than kissing, the woman was dominating Sam, pinning him to the brick, and Sam looked equal parts desperate and complacent.

That was the moment Castiel’s heart truly broke, and he learned that it was not enough to kill him. Kisses were not always a sign of love, but this woman had accomplished what Castiel could not. Unless something drastic happened, something over Christmas dinner or New Year’s Day perhaps, Castiel had lost.

He tried not to give up hope, but being human was so difficult. The bombardment of emotions was too much to handle. Castiel felt himself drowning in it, unable to pull himself up from the suffocating depression, and he wondered how humans found the will to live at all.

 

* * *

 

 

His late visitor that night was not Gabriel, and Castiel was startled to see her. Immediately, even though he hadn’t seen her face clearly in the snow, Castiel inexplicably knew that this woman was the one that Sam had been kissing. He also guessed that she was the one Sam came home dazed and happy after seeing each day.

“Hey, angel. Long time, no see.”

Realisation dawned on him slowly, and Castiel cursed his missing Grace. If only he’d realised sooner.

He climbed out of bed, grabbing the Angel Blade from under his pillow as he did so, because if this were to be a fight, Castiel would not be caught at a disadvantage.

He wasn’t sure if demons could read human thoughts, but it was worth a try.

_ Ruby, _ he sneered.  _ What are you doing here? _

Ruby glanced once at the Blade before meeting Castiel’s eyes unashamedly. “What’re you gonna do, Castiel?” she taunted. “Are you gonna kill your friend just because he doesn’t play for your team?”

Castiel squinted. Was that a euphemism for something? He didn’t understand, but it didn’t make him any less willing to kill her either.

Ruby rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “Oh my God, Castiel, he’s not  _ gay _ ! He doesn’t love you like that, and he never will.”

_ I was set up --  _

“Oh, don’t start that crap. It’s not like angels or demons care about gender or sex or any of that. That’s a human thing. We didn’t know Sam wasn’t into dick.”

There was a gentle roll of thunder in the distance, which was almost immediately followed by a knock on Castiel’s door.

Castiel panicked. With no voice, he couldn’t tell Sam not to come in. He couldn’t warn him of the danger.

“Hey, Cas?” Sam called through the door. “A storm’s coming in. I’m going to open the door, okay?”

_ NO! _ Castiel wanted to scream, but it was too late. Sam was opening the door, and Ruby had the most amused look on her face.

“What are you gonna do?” she whispered quickly. “Kill me? Kill him? You lose, Castiel, no matter what. Poor little seraph didn’t even have a chance -- “

“Ruby? Sam questioned. “Cas? What . . . ?”

“We’re just talking,” Ruby answered smoothly. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Well, there’s a storm rolling in, and I’d really like Cas to -- “ Sam stepped forward, and the change in angle allowed him a glimpse of the Blade before Castiel could hide it.

“This doesn’t look like talking to me.” Sam’s voice was controlled. He looked prepared to fight, but Castiel begged him with his eyes.  _ Please, no. Please don’t get involved. This isn’t your fight. You have no idea what you’re into, what I’ve dragged you into. I’m so sorry. Please just leave. _

Ruby heard everything, and she laughed and seized Castiel’s arm in a vice-like grip, twisting. He cried out in pain, but didn’t release the blade.

“Hey!” Sam shouted, surging forward no matter how Castiel begged silently for him to stay back. “What the hell, Ruby? Let go of him!”

Ruby’s smirk was feral, and  the moment Sam’s fingers touched Ruby’s grip on Castiel, she transported them to Hell. To the Cage. Castiel closed his eyes in defeat. He’d take the punishment he had laid out for him, but he didn’t want Sam involved in any of this.

“Welcome back,” Lucifer crooned in his ear, and Castiel realised too late how close he was to the edge of the Cage. His Blade fell from his grip as he struggled against Lucifer’s arms wrapping around him, damning the pain in his back and the freezing cold of the Cage that slowed him down.

“You know, I expected you to lose,” he said flippantly while Castiel writhed and kicked. “But I didn’t expect you to just give up. Just because Ruby told you to.”

Sam was a good dozen yards away. He had collapsed as soon as he landed and was looking at his surroundings in fear and confusion, his short and shallow breaths punctuated with mist from the cold.

“What the hell,” he breathed. And then louder, “ _ What the hell?!” _

“ _ Location, Location, Location _ for two thousand, Alex,” Ruby laughed. “Welcome to Hell, Sammy.”

_ Send him back! _ Castiel demanded, knowing Lucifer and Ruby would hear him even if Sam could not.  _ This wasn’t part of the deal! _

“Oh, but part of living in the Cage is perpetual torture. Or boredom, but that’s a kind of torture of its own. The question is whether to let Sammy here watch you die, or make you watch him die.”

“He can’t hold up his part of the bargain if he’s dead,” Ruby smirked.

“Fair point. Looks like we’ll have to kill the boy then.”

Castiel reached out to Sam as far as he could, begging, pleading, for him to climb to his feet and come to him. Castiel didn’t think he could get them out of this, but damn if he wasn’t going to try.

Sam seemed to understand and scrambled to his feet, running clumsily towards Castiel and trying to pry Lucifer’s arms off Castiel, to no avail. Castiel knew it was a fruitless effort, but that didn’t stop him from trying.

_ You promised me back my angelhood, _ Castiel directed at Lucifer pointedly as Sam still struggled.  _ My wings and my Grace and my voice. Give them back. _

“I will,” Lucifer answered. “One thing at a time, my brother. Don’t you want your Blade back first?”

Castiel knew what was going to happen before it did, but he was still powerless to stop it. He saw it as if in slow motion -- Ruby scooping up the Blade, plunging it between Sam’s vertebrae, giving it a sickening twist for before pulling it out and letting the blood flow freely.

Castiel didn’t even have a thought to describe what he felt in that moment, Sam’s eyes full of pain and shock even as he collapsed against Castiel. If he thought he knew what heartbreak was before, he was wrong, so wrong.

Lucifer still had an unbreakable hold on Castiel, but he let him slide to the ground as Sam’s legs became too weak to support him. He was losing a lot of blood. Too much blood. Castiel used his hands to stem the flow and prayed and prayed for just enough Grace to heal Sam, to send him back to safety, but to no avail. Sam’s eyes grew dim, his eyelids drooping, and all Castiel could think beyond his grief was that at least Sam’s would be a quick death.

“Cas,” Sam choked, clutching at Castiel with his waning strength. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s happening, but Ruby -- I shouldn’t have -- I’m sorry.”

Castiel shook his head violently, holding Sam’s face in his hands, mindless of the blood he was smearing across his skin. He kissed Sam on the forehead and, knowing that no matter what, Sam would die here, held his hand on Sam’s chest, over his failing heart, begging with his eyes for Sam to understand. Sam smiled weakly, his eyes just barely open a sliver, as he repeated the gesture with a hand trembling so badly Castiel could feel it in his core.

Then Sam’s hand dropped, and his body slumped against Castiel’s, and for the first time, Castiel wept. All he wanted was a chance. He never wanted this.

“Oh, God, why?” he whispered, unthinkingly. Castiel didn’t notice Lucifer and Ruby’s eyes go wide until he felt Lucifer’s hold weaken in surprise. A warmth filled Castiel’s body as if every cell were waking up, a weight at his back soothed the pain that had lingered there for so long.

Castiel acted without thinking. Knowing only that he was an angel again, and that he had the element of surprise to his advantage, he broke free of Lucifer’s hold and, carrying Sam with one arm and retrieving his Angel Blade with the other, ended Ruby’s life with a flash of light.

Castiel had no reason to feel triumphant, not with the one true love of his life dead, not when the only reason he earned his angelhood back was because his hands were covered in Sam’s blood, but with tears streaking his face and Lucifer screaming in torment and defeat, Castiel flew them back to Earth, back to the apartment, back to safety.

* * *

 

 

It is not easy to return a human’s soul to its body. In fact, it is nearly impossible for an angel such as Castiel. But with Gabriel’s blessing, he managed it. Castiel could not explain with words how relieved he was to see Sam’s chest rise and fall with each breath.

Sam slept for hours, well into Christmas, so long that the sun was long past set, would be rising again in a few hours, when Sam’s eyes finally fluttered open. Castiel had kept vigil all night and all day, refusing to leave Sam’s side for even a moment until he was sure the human was okay.

In all that time, Castiel did nothing but think. He praised his Father for blessing him with the instinct and reflexes of a warrior. A guardian or a cupid would never have been able to escape Lucifer’s trap.

He thought about how he plunged his Blade into Ruby’s chest efficiently and without thought, and he prayed that her vessel’s soul resided in Heaven.

Mostly, though, he thought about Sam. Beautiful, caring, selfless Sam who never should have been dragged into this. Who, with his dying breath, apologised for something he shouldered no blame for. Whose blood coated Castiel’s hands, and among all of Castiel’s new human sensations, that was the only one he could think about. Warm and red, a thick river flowing between Castiel’s fingers. Sam, beautiful and joyful and animated -- flickering, fading, disappearing.

Castiel swallowed and bit his tongue to keep the tears at bay. Angels do not cry.

When Sam finally opened his eyes, Castiel was the first thing he saw. Castiel sitting in a chair by his bed and holding his head in his hands and whispering to himself.

“Cas?” he called, his voice scratchy and weak. He cleared his throat and spoke again, only slightly better.. “What’s wrong? What happened? I had the strangest dream . . . “

Wordlessly, Castiel helped Sam sit up, and when pain flashed up his spine and he saw the bandages wrapped around his abdomen, recognition immediately overtook Sam’s face.

“It wasn’t a dream?” he whispered, wide eyed and scared. “That was real? With the devil and -- and you and . . . I  _ died _ ?!”

“Sam, please calm down,” Castiel soothed, his own voice hoarse with disuse. He sat on the edge of Sam’s bed and forced himself to meet Sam’s eyes.

“Your voice -- !“

“Yes, I can speak again. You’ve been through a lot. More than I would ever voluntarily put you through. You weren’t supposed to be involved in any of this.”

“What is  _ this _ ? Cas . . . ” He laughed humourlessly. “I’ve gotta be going crazy.”

Castiel looked at Sam sadly. He couldn’t lie to Sam, not again, but the last thing he wanted was to hurt him further. He wanted to erase Sam’s memory or convince him it was a dream. But even after everything, he could not lie to Sam.

“I will tell you,” Castiel decided. “I’ll tell you everything, and afterwards, you have to decide what to do. I can erase your memory of me, of Ruby, of everything that’s happened. Or you can keep the memories and . . . Sam, if you want me to leave after this, I will. I will vanish completely. You will never see me again in our life or in your afterlife.”

Sam swallowed, and Castiel couldn’t help but notice the way his Adam’s apple bobbed before he reestablished eye contact.

“What if I want you to stay?” he asked softly.

Castiel blew out a heavy breath. “That is an option,” he admitted, “but not a likely one, I’m afraid. Not after I tell you everything.”

Sam twisted to fluff up his pillows, wincing even as he sat up against them and crossed his arms, trying to maintain a poker face. “We’ll see about that. Tell me.”

Castiel grimaced and handed Sam a glass of some kind of juice cocktail that was in the fridge. He’d read that juice helps humans recover from blood loss. “Drink this,” he commanded, “and do not interrupt me.”

Sam took the glass, looking at Castiel over the rim dubiously, but nodding.

With a deep breath, Castiel told Sam everything about how he became enamoured with his soul and the deal he made and the deal Gabriel made and how they escaped the Cage, but he started it all with, “My name is Castiel, and I am the angel who saved you on the mountain..”

When the room was silent and Sam’s glass was empty, both Sam and Castiel stared off into nothing -- Sam concentrating, trying to process all the new information thrown at him, and Castiel just waiting for the command. Erase the memories or just leave.

If Castiel had to pick one, he would choose to leave Sam’s memories intact and stay out of his life. That way, Sam would at least remember him. Castiel would have that little blessing to hold onto for eternity.

“Okay,” Sam said softly. Then, more decisively, “Okay.”

Castiel braced himself for the worst.

“So you’re an angel. An actual honest-to-God angel who was willing to give everything up for me -- for  _ me _ for some reason -- so you made a deal with the devil to try to fall in love with me, or risk torture for all eternity.”

Slowly, Castiel nodded. “That sums up the beginning, I suppose.”

When Sam looked up, there were tears in his eyes, which surprised Castiel, considering how calm and collected he sounded. Now, however, his voice shook. “Cas -- Castiel -- I . . . I don’t think you realise how much this means to me. I’ve prayed to God every night all my life. I always believed angels were watching over me and my family. And this?” Sam paused a moment to collect himself. “This is so much more than anything I ever imagined. I’m so -- I’m -- ” He laughed, but it sounded more like a sob. “I’m  _ blessed _ .”

Castiel didn’t want to pry, especially when Sam was emotional, but he needed to know. “Sam, what is your choice? What do you want me to do?”

Sam looked up at him incredulously, the tear tracks down his cheeks only adding to the guilt Castiel felt for asking.

“Before you tell me,” Castiel said quickly, knowing he was weak for doing so but needing to say this before he lost his chance, “You should know that I’m the one who is blessed. I was so intrigued by your soul, but I never expected you to open your home to me, or care for me, or befriend me. I expected to learn about humanity from you, and not much else. But it’s been an honour to love you.”

Sam was sobbing quietly now. “Castiel, if you leave me . . .if you leave me, at least let me remember you.”

Castiel’s brow furrowed in confusion. Surely he was interpreting this incorrectly. “I don’t understand. Do you . . . not want me to leave?”

“That’s an option, right? I can ask you to stay?”

Castiel felt weak, as if he might faint, but Sam caught him easily, cradling his face in his large, calloused hands and kissing him.

Castiel’s insides lit up like fireworks. This was so much more than his Grace, his ingrained love for humanity, his angelhood in general, had ever made him feel.

Their lips parted with a small noise that made Sam giggle through his tears, and the joy was infectious.

But they weren’t done yet. “Now we have another decision,” Castiel said, but he wouldn’t be parted from Sam for even a minute, so he took Sam’s hand in his own and kissed each knuckle. Sam’s shiver lit something else in Castiel that he had never felt before. “I can live like this, an angel, immortal, but never leaving your side, while you live your mortal life as you should. Or, I can once again contain my Grace -- and with it, my voices -- and we can live as mortals together until it is time for me to join you in your heaven.”

Sam’s gaze was heavy against Castiel’s, but the angel couldn’t help but notice the galaxies in Sam’s eyes. They held secrets and desires and behind them shined the brightest soul Castiel had ever seen.

“That’s your call, Cas,” Sam whispered. “As long as you’re with me . . . I mean, as long as you’re happy, I don’t care. Your voice is beautiful, but I can live without it if it means being with you.”

How Castiel could have found such an amazing creature as Sam, he would never understand. Surely, he didn’t deserve him.

From his pocket, Castiel pulled a small vial, protected by a blessed chain and Enochian sigils. It was the same vial Lucifer used to contain Castiel’s Grace, and it worked because only angels could open it.

But Castiel opened it now and with his Blade, carefully altered the sigils. The look of pure awe on Sam’s face was enough to mask the pain of Grace being pulled from his body as Castiel breathed it into the vial. When he was done, he sealed it and threw the chain around Sam’s neck. The vial glowed gently, but it was easily covered by Sam’s shirt.

“Cas,” Sam breathed. “No. Why are you trusting me with this?”

Castiel, once again mute, could not explain. He couldn’t tell Sam that the vial would now only break when Sam died, so Castiel would receive his Grace back the exact moment he needed to meet Sam in his heaven. Instead, he held his hand to Sam’s chest, feeling his strong heartbeat under his fingers and feeling comforted.

Sam pulled Castiel close as if he never wanted to let go.


End file.
